Arrangements!

Marlene stood up and pressed a finger against the center of her forehead. A dense swarm of tiny black insects spilled from inside her wound and rapidly began spinning silk, stitching the lacerations shut. It was an excruciating process, like countless fine needles repeatedly piercing her flesh, but Marlene stood motionless, seemingly feeling nothing. Soon, the gruesome wound across her body was completely repaired. Instead of stopping there, she had the insects artificially "age" the newly mended flesh. At last, the injury was entirely imperceptible. Like a perfectionist sculptor, she had treated her own damaged body as a statue undergoing the most delicate restoration. As for the torn clerical robe... the array woven into the fabric activated, and the threads began to re-intertwine. It promptly returned to its original state, the only cost being that it was perhaps a fraction thinner than before. After finishing all this, she took a deep breath. By now, the frost on the doors of the Whip-Wielder's office had completely melted away. Marlene stepped forward and knocked. *Creak...* The doors swung open. Inside lay an office, yet it was not confined to a mere room. More precisely, it was an icy pool covering an area as vast as a soccer field. In the center of this frozen tarn sat a fully open office, along with a freestanding door. Of course, whether any of this was revealed depended entirely on the Whip-Wielder's whim. Stepping through the door, Marlene immediately caught sight of the shattered icebergs ringing the pool out of the corner of her eye. Fortunately, though the Whip-Wielder was in a foul mood, he had already vented his rage. What remained nerve-racking, however, was that no one could say whether he was finished venting. A slight tremor ran through Marlene's heart. Perhaps it was the shock of the injury she had suffered when preparing to enter earlier, or perhaps it was the oppressive atmosphere bearing down on her after stepping inside—it felt as if two buckets of ice water had been dumped over her, soaking both her body and her soul. Even worse, two deep knee-shaped dents pressed into the carpet struck Marlene like a sledgehammer! This instantly dragged her out of the narrow confines of "office politics," making her abruptly realize just how unmanageable the situation had become! She and Steven had merely been playing with fire facing each other, watching the flames rage far away where they didn't care. But now, the sweeping inferno was already showing signs of turning back on them, poised to swallow them whole. "Lord Whip-Wielder, earlier today at a commendation ceremony held at the York City Region Whip of Order Headquarters—" "I know." "Yes, Lord Whip-Wielder." By ordinary habit... or rather, according to her intentions when leaving her own office, this was when she should have subtly poisoned the well against Steven. Yet now, she didn't dare. She even wanted to shield Steven, covering for him as much as possible. In their past struggles, her goal had only been to make the Whip-Wielder dislike Steven a bit more—not utter hatred, just finding him annoying, incompetent, or not worth bothering with. That would have been enough. That was how factional maneuvering worked in their inner circle. The visceral thrill of cleaving someone down with a single blow rarely happened here; instead, it took time to ferment until the right moment arrived to wave goodbye. Now, however, Marlene sensed that if this matter proved serious enough to trigger a thorough investigation, her own role in it could never be concealed. This was the very core of the Whip of Order. The Whip-Wielder's gaze was not usually fixed here. Even the wisest and most perceptive individuals habitually overlooked their immediate surroundings, and since the aides were his "eyes" and "ears," minor schemes and squabbles were normally tolerated. Yet the moment the Whip-Wielder lowered his head and spent even a fraction of his attention taking a serious look, nothing could be hidden from him. Nothing at all! Marlene knew intimately how terrifying this ant-collecting Whip-Wielder truly was. The Whip-Wielder picked up a fountain pen from his desk and tapped it lightly against the surface. It was his way of summoning relevant subordinates to his office, though this time there was evidently no immediate response. Marlene spoke up at once. "Lord Whip-Wielder, Steven is currently presiding over a meeting. I shall go summon him immediately." The personnel reassignments within the York City Region's Whip of Order had been orchestrated by Steven from the start. Once trouble broke out there, guessing who needed to be summoned was trivial. Marlene's offer was merely the basic duty of a secretary-general. "Mm." Foden gave a nod. Marlene felt an enormous sense of relief and stepped out of the Whip-Wielder's office. She needed to seize this brief window to warn Steven of the looming crisis. Meanwhile, Foden rested his forehead against his fingers, sitting behind his desk. Around the frozen pool, the destroyed icebergs began to freeze over and rise anew, but the Whip-Wielder had lost all interest in cleaving them down a second time. "Heh..." After a moment, Foden let out a dry laugh at his own expense. For an incident this grave to occur in his branch, only for him to learn of it directly from the High Priest—he harbored no resentment toward the High Priest for losing his temper, because he felt as though he had become a laughingstock. Foden was well aware that if this matter was mishandled, it could easily spawn a new round of confrontation within the church. This was no longer a squabble between the York City Region's Whip of Order and the Regional Administration; this was an all-out, bare-knuckle war! And it would spread instantly. The ongoing reallocation of power between the Whip of Order and the Regional Administrative Offices across all regions, modeled after York City, would be interrupted immediately. It would devolve into even fiercer opposition, mutating into a high-profile power grab by the Whip of Order against other branches. Furthermore, because he stood resolutely behind the High Priest, other factions within the church would easily mistake this for a new internal campaign launched by the High Priest himself. The factions that had finally been pacified, suppressed, or were quietly biding their time would all be forced to rise and strike back. It would be their instinct, a normal reaction forced by the circumstances. All of the High Priest's prior promises and arrangements would be viewed as completely hollow, making internal mediation and suppression far more difficult and costly. If Foden were the Temple, he would likely seize this opportunity to intervene in church affairs once again. If that happened, the Church of Order would face genuine, full-scale internal strife! Foden's eyes began to tinge with red. This was an exceedingly delicate period. On the surface, during the previous round of internal political maneuvering: At the top, the High Priest had suppressed the Temple, going so far as to raise the slogan, "Let the Temple return to being the Temple." In the middle, under the banner of broad consensus, the High Priest had kept friction between the various factions under control. The quintessential example was Theisen's "mild" death; as the standard-bearer of the old conservatives, Theisen had refused to burn bridges to his dying breath, actively de-escalating the conflict and making limited struggle a shared consensus. At the bottom, various branches led by the Whip of Order were beginning to tighten regional administration and enhance the Holy Court's local oversight, using legitimacy and moral authority to suppress regional resistance. In other words, it was a delicate equilibrium maintained through suppression, requiring time to settle. Yet today's incident in the York City Region was like someone suddenly launching a firework right as everyone agreed to a ceasefire... *Crack!* Foden clenched his fist, released it, clenched it again, and released it once more. If he could, he truly wished he could travel to York City in person, enter that hall, and crush the skulls of the regional chief and ministers one by one! ... The meeting in the isolated room was broken up by Marlene's arrival. Learning that the Whip-Wielder had summoned him, Steven immediately suspended the session and followed Marlene toward the Whip-Wielder's office. "Things have blown up." "York City?" "Yes, blown way out of proportion," Marlene repeated. "You've lit a powder keg, Steven." "Everything is well within control." Steven appeared composed; clearly, he had read the plan. "The York City Whip of Order's operation will serve as a model demonstration for every regional branch, and someone will pay the price from start to finish for this incident." "You mean that young man named Karen?" "Yes." Under the original scheme, the young man Karen would act as a sharp blade slicing open the York City Regional Administrative Office, carrying out a high-profile purge before being cast aside to smooth over tensions. That way, they would secure practical gains while offering all factions an explanation. A promising youth committing an act of insubordination to make a name for himself, whom we would subsequently discipline—the Whip of Order would mourn the loss of a fine prospect. Steven had been very pleased with the script that Bernie had routed up through the ranks. Marlene laughed out of pure exasperation. "What is it?" "On the live broadcast, the people from the York City Whip of Order Headquarters arrested every regional bishop in the auditorium on the spot." Steven: "..." "It has blown up completely. The High Priest likely just paid a visit to the Whip-Wielder. The Whip-Wielder is furious." "How... how could this happen?" Panic seized Steven as he experienced the same emotional whiplash Marlene had felt earlier. "It's already happened." Steven slowed his pace. At this moment, even the Whip-Wielder's office filled him with dread. Both of them were extraordinarily clever, but they were ultimately assistants. Much of their influence stemmed from tasks delegated under the Whip-Wielder's authority; in other words, they were heavily reliant on the platform they stood on. Normally, they rarely noticed this dependence and even subconsciously ignored it, as human nature made feeling overly good about oneself almost unavoidable. Yet once that platform cracked and turned against them, figures built entirely upon it would wither away instantly, like the emperor's new clothes. Even though they were the ones who had instigated this affair, the regional chief, ministers, and directors far away in the York City Whip of Order Headquarters building were likely far less panicked and terrified than they were. "Find a way to salvage it," Marlene warned. "We can't stop now," Steven said. "The die is cast. A reckless wrap-up and forced suppression are impossible." This wasn't as simple as issuing an official decree commanding the regional Whip of Order to end the matter immediately. Doing so would effectively castrate the grassroots Whip of Order apparatus they had painstakingly revived! The most direct consequence would be turning the entire Whip of Order into a laughingstock—and the Whip-Wielder along with it. "Push it through quickly, resolve it, and bring it to a close," Marlene said. "It has to be fast, and the wrap-up must be handled flawlessly to minimize the fallout." "That can be done. It's entirely doable. Because we have the active cooperation of the York City Region's Head Bishop. We push it through fast, try them, convict them, and finally have him step forward to shoulder all the blame." "Would he be willing?" "He's on the verge of death. He will be." "My question is: does he know about your plan?" "Of course he knows. Without his cooperation, how could this plan ever be executed?" "Does that include the scheme targeting Karen?" Steven froze. Marlene couldn't even be bothered to mock him, pressing on immediately. "Karen is the man who avenged his entire family. He even placed his own grandson into Karen's team." "It's fine. He will cooperate with the purge. Not only will he provide evidence, but the Regional Administration will not interfere. Everything will proceed smoothly and swiftly. Before he dies, as a devout believer of Order, he wants to do something beneficial for the faith. That much is guaranteed." "And the wrap-up?" Marlene nearly growled under her breath. "Are we talking about that purge right now? I'm asking about the conclusion! Is he willing to step forward and close it out?" "Under the original plan, sacrificing Karen would have been enough to close it out." "It's far from enough now! We can only rely on him—on Wolflen." "Yes." Steven nodded. "I will immediately dispatch someone to confirm it with him. As long as he is willing to step forward afterward to bear all the responsibility and pressure, his status, his tragedy, and his personal confession will provide the best possible closure. We will still come out ahead. The York City Region will remain a model. We won't be held accountable; rather, we'll be credited with merit!" "Steven, please sober up!" Marlene wished she could slap him across the face. "Why on earth would he agree to that?" "He..." "What leverage do you have left to threaten him with? He's a dying man!" "His grandson—" "You said it yourself: he is now a genuine, pure believer of Order! Even if the High Priest went to see him right now, he could look him in the eye without flinching!" "Send someone else. Send someone with shared interests..." Steven quickly found an angle to resolve the dilemma. Then, he said, "Have Karen go beg him!" Marlene said, "Things having reached this stage, I refuse to believe that young man doesn't realize he's being used as a scapegoat." "Offer him benefits! He is still young; we can trade favors with him. He will agree, as long as the reward is sufficient!" Marlene let out a long breath. At least a line of thinking to resolve the crisis had emerged. Though success was by no means guaranteed, they would at least stop floundering helplessly like ants on a hot pan. Steven continued, "It just so happens that we need someone to take the blame anyway—someone who hid the truth from me and acted on his own initiative to carry out this operation. Driven by greed for glory and reckless ambition, he brewed this crisis. That explains why I was kept in the dark." In truth, Steven had certainly known that today's commendation ceremony in the York City Whip of Order auditorium was the kickoff of the plan. He had deliberately held a meeting of his own simply to avoid suspicion. Marlene nodded. "That also vacates a post to trade with. If you want to ruin that young man Karen's prospects, you must compensate him with a different future." Steven said, "Regional Chief Harry will bear primary responsibility. It was all his concealment." "On the surface, he still earned merit." "He originally intended to use this achievement to secure a transfer to the Dinge Region Headquarters. We'll promote his rank, reassign him to garrison the Dead Silence Space, and then find an opportunity to arrange for someone to..." Steven made a chopping gesture with his hand. "Just one regional chief?" "No more than that; one is enough. Bernie cannot be implicated, or I won't be able to clear myself. He is part of my faction, and I fear the Whip-Wielder will turn his gaze toward this side." "Mm." "Additionally, Harry's confidant ministers are suspected of involvement. We can transfer several of them out, clearing vacancies for Karen." "But Karen was promoted only recently," Marlene pointed out. "He is still very young." "I will make him an offer he cannot refuse. Only then will he go plead with Wolflen. As for his previous promotion, that was for slaying an assassin and saving the church's honor. This promotion will be for meritorious service during the purge. He ought to become the public figurehead championed by our Whip of Order system. An exceptional promotion is precisely the treatment someone in that role deserves. It makes sense and can be pushed through. My people and yours will build momentum for him together, submitting a request for an extraordinary commendation to the Whip-Wielder. When the time comes to deliberate on this, you and I will advise the Whip-Wielder in unison." "Make it fast. I doubt he will plead with Wolflen before his promotion is set in stone. And if Wolflen is willing to step forward and shoulder all the responsibility and pressure, it will certainly only be after seeing Karen promoted. After all, your people have already lied to him once, and we truly cannot afford to wait." "Of course, I understand. Furthermore, once this blows over, you should suggest to the Whip-Wielder that he launch a sweeping internal rectification. You will take the lead as Secretary-General, relinquishing part of the Secretariat's authority to other departments for cross-supervision, and I will help you suppress any objections within the office." "Very well." Marlene nodded. By this point, the two of them had finally arrived outside the Whip-Wielder's office and began straightening their appearance. "Steven, shouldn't you thank me for helping you so much this time?" "Thank you for what? For digging a pit for me? Or for falling into the very pit you dug yourself?" "Heh." Steven asked, "Do you think the Whip-Wielder will be satisfied with these arrangements?" "What you really want to ask is how the Whip-Wielder will treat you in a moment, isn't it?" "Yes, I'm terrified. The Whip-Wielder knows I have people in the York City Region, and the previous plan was also submitted to him by me." "Take a guess. When you go in and tell him you knew nothing about it, how do you think the Whip-Wielder will react?" "He will be furious. I will kneel and beg for punishment, and then the Whip-Wielder will scold me for being a useless dog." "Mm. Earlier, when the High Priest arrived, he probably asked the exact same question. And the Whip-Wielder's answer was likely that he didn't know, either." Steven: "..."